too late to go back
by daughter-of-october
Summary: [Characters: Ur Milkovich, Ivan Dreyar] # Summary: And once again, she was looking at someone's back. # Dedication: CupCakesYummeh


**_too late to go back_**

**Characters**: Ur Milkovich, Ivan Dreyar

**Summary**: And once again, she was looking at someone's back.

**Author's Note**: I absolutely blame CupCakesYummeh for this. She knows why.

* * *

The end had approached them a long time ago, it had sneaked up on them and if she was honest, she had felt it breathing down her neck. It had been just too perfect for them. And end that had been designed just for them.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as the fog cleared that had obscured her view for so long, for too long. They had killed it, their friendship, with one too many promises. She had never demanded promises, oaths from anyone. She had just too gladly made enough promises for all of them to keep, for all of them to break.

She had wanted to hold him, to hold all of them. And in her belief that she would be able to do just that, she had ruined herself.

She had to keep going, now. Alone. She had no one she would carry and no one who would carry her. And the only companion on this way was silence. She had nothing left to say and there was no question she wanted to ask. She could not afford to stop now. They had managed to get so far, so close before everything had crashed and had left her with the ruins of an old friendship.

But every drop of blood she had shed on this way, every tear and every drop of sweat that had ran down her cheeks on the long, long way that had been pointless in the end, was burning on her skin now - because it was too late, much too late.

They were more than just a little destroyed and more than just confused. They had paid little to no attention to themselves, had not even noticed what had happened. And so, they had not even fought back. This made this defeat so bitter, so painful. They had accepted it. They had stood in front of those ruins and they had not even tried to fix it again.

She remembered this just too well as she faced another ruin, another battlefield where she had lost another war, another treasure lost.

Her hair was too long, too shaggy as she sat in front of the fire and stared into the flames where she saw the ghosts of the past. The glass in front of her was empty, _again_. She knew that she was drinking too much, that she was endangering herself with her reckless behaviour. But who was there to stop her? To tell her that she was walking on paths that only led down, _down_, **_down_**?

She heard the knock on her door but found herself unable to care about it. Why would she, anyway? No one important ever came to see her. Layla was too busy playing happy little family, Gildarts was probably on another journey to find his inner peace and Ivan … Ivan had lost himself. He was the bitterest loss she had suffered in all those years - because he was not really gone. He was still there but he had been twisted into someone she did no longer recognise.

The door to her living room swung open and in strolled - adorned with a warm fur coat even though she felt like it was more a symbol of a high status than a protection against the cold - Ivan Dreyar.

She turned her head and poured new gin into her glass. "Do I get a chance to empty my glass?" she asked as she lifted the glass.

"I haven't come to kill you, traitor-chan, not yet, at least," he said as he leaned against the doorframe. "And I will have a glass of whatever you are having."

She snorted but got up and put another glass onto the table. "It has been a while," she said with a shrug. "What leads you here, anyway?"

"I heard what happened Ultear-chan," he said as he sat down and rested his hands onto the table. "I am … sorry, I guess. Did murderer-chan stop by to offer you his condolences? Or is he too busy fuming about adulterer-chan to realise how unhappy you are right now?"

She was silent as she remembered. She remembered a silent and kind young man, one who had been insecure and a little shy - who had freaked out when she had first developed the strategy of training in little clothing. "He hasn't been here," she said softly.

"Tscha, even lover boy-chan has deserted you, huh?" he remarked dryly. "Anyway, you shouldn't be this hard on yourself. It's all over, yes. You have lost everything you ever cared for, sure. However, there are no possibilities opening up now. The sky above you is just as endless as it always was. And it will start all over again. I won't make any promises because we both know that I cannot hold them, not after everything. But I don't have to. But you have keep trying, traitor-chan. You can swim so don't claim that you are drowning already."

She silently downed her drink. "How can you tell me to keep going when you are stumbling as well?" she asked. "We … we would have offered to carry you, you know that. You … you slipped out of our fingers before we got to try…"

He was smiling as her vision got blurry. "You know, Ur-chan," he said softly as no malice coloured his voice in shades of black, "you are really the patron saint of how emotions ruined great mages … you would have been a valuable asset, even now. Raven Tail would have been happy to have you, you know?" he asked.

She leaned back as her body felt heavier and heavier with every passing second. "You drugged me," she muttered as she leaned back. "Why?"

"Because once upon a time, you would have done the same for me. Sleep now, you will need it."

"Bastard…" she whispered.

"Believe me, I know … traitor-chan," he said as he left her hut.

She stared at his back as wistfulness dwelled in her. She was used to staring as his back, years of a now lost friendship had taught her to stay back and watch. And yet, as he vanished, she could not even say with absolute conviction that he had ever been there. But as she had realised previously, it was too late to go back now.

But she was still alive. She had tried many things yet never all - now, she would go to the extremes, to the last limits she had never overstepped. She was alive - and she had lived. And she would not drown now. There were things left to say. There were questions she had to find an answer for. And she had to find her peace.

She was alive.

Her heart was still beating, even amidst the cold, cold ice.


End file.
